Always For You
by cystalclearxox
Summary: Even the most faithful people have their doubts. Even the strongest people have their weaknesses. Darco.


A/N: Okay, so I know some of you Darco fans (me for one) are upset with Dylan because he doesn't call Marco while he is in Switzerland. I wrote this oneshot so that you could see Dylan's side of the story. Hopefully it while make you less mad at him. Enjoy! Oh and in this oneshot Dylan already knows about the gambling incident.

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A chill breeze swept in from the open apartment window, sending a pile of papers scattering to the floor. Off in the distance an arduous groan escaped from an exhausted brunette's lips. Dylan had fallen asleep on the sofa in his living room. He was so worn out from the day's earlier hockey practice as soon as he reached his apartment he collapsed down onto his couch and passed out, shoes on and everything. Goosebumps rose all over his ashen skin when a gust of brisk wind encased him. The older boy's eyes fluttered open, revealing their sapphire hue. The tired boy then peered around the dimmed living room, searching for the icy draft's source. His eyes fixed themselves on an unshut window. Its gossamery drapes whipped violently in the bitter wind. Dylan restlessly rose from the couch and sauntered over to the window, quickly slamming it shut. 

Dylan winced slightly at the loud noise, hoping the other residents of the apartment building didn't hear it. The hockey player then gazed out at the starlight sky. He marveled at the beauty of Zurich's nightlife. A gorgeous array of lights flooded into the Limmat River which his apartment over looked. The reflections of the lit structures give the river an ethereal appearance. On one of his first days here he had taken a tour of the Limmat River. Each side of the river that flowed through Zurich was lined with historical buildings that added to the city's charm. The river then led out into a pristine lake where you could see the breath talking Alps that surrounded it. Dylan couldn't help but think that this was something Marco would love to see.

The older boy sighed unhappily and returned to the couch but before he was able to reach it he caught a glimpse of something. He turned his head and saw a disjointed newspaper and some letters from home strewn about the tiled floor of the kitchen. Dylan laughed hopelessly as he rubbed his weary eyes. He then made his way over to the mess, collecting the papers and placing them neatly on the marble counter. The brunette then noticed that one of the letters had slipped from his grasp and descended to the floor once more.

He carefully picked the unopened letter up, inspecting who it was from. The hockey player never had time to read the many letters he received from home or he just simply forgot about them but when he read the fine print stated who the letter was from he carelessly ripped it open. Dylan then ran over to the couch and dropped down onto it. He hurriedly reached over and clicked the lamp that rested on his end table on. The light filtered through the stationary paper, making the words easier to read.

_Dear Dylan,_

_It's me, Marco. I hope you haven't forgotten about me because I certainly haven't forgotten you. Since you almost never call or email me or anyone else for that fact I decided to write you a letter. Hopefully you'll read it…So things around here have been dismal without you. Well, just for me that is. Paige is actually doing great. Her and Alex are together and in love. She finally realized that being bi was okay and that the word bi was just a silly label and that it didn't define who she really was. Yay, for Paige! _

_Ellie has gotten back with Jesse. I actually walked in one them together. Don't worry. They weren't in the process of doing anything…naughty. They were just in bed together, with their clothes on. I've been trying to pry information out of El about what happened between them but she won't budge. I guess I'll try bribing her with brownies! _

_Jimmy and Ashley are still going strong despite their, um…sexual problems. Craig is still in rehab but he's getting better. Spinner still hates me. He won't talk to me. I've tried making things better between him and me but he's being stubborn. I'm still working at my dad's store, trying to pay off my debt from the gambling incident. The worst part of all of this is my parents are really disappointed in me. No actually the worst part of this is you're not here to comfort me. _

_I miss you a lot. To the point were I think I'm going crazy without you. I mostly likely am. I think about you all the time. Do you think about me? Probably not. You're probably to busy with hockey and stuff. Oh, Paige is telling me to tell that she loves and misses you and that if you don't call soon she's flying over there and kicking your ass. I think she means business. So what it's like in Switzerland? All I know is that they make damn good chocolate. Has hockey been hard? I hope they're not treating you too roughly. It must be grueling. You better be eating right. I don't want you to get sick. _

_I've got to stop writing now. El is calling me for dinner. Hopefully she didn't cook it. Bye Dyl. I love you. We all do and we're all very proud of you. Remember that. _

_P.S._

_Please call. I loved to hear you're voice. I miss it. _

_Love,_

_Marco Del Rossi_

By now the brunette was choking back painful sobs, his eyes welling up with hot tears. His hands were shaking, along with the letter. Dylan did miss everybody. Especially Marco. He missed his soothing voice and his gentle cocoa eyes. He missed his sweet vanilla scent and his comforting hugs. He missed everything about him. Even his incessant nagging about his lack of cleanliness. The hockey player delicately held the letter to his aching heart, tiny sniffles echoing throughout the room. A single tear trailed down Dylan's livid cheek and then soaked into denim fabric of the brunette's faded jeans. The older boy folded the letter back up slipped it back into its torn envelope. He then gently placed it on his coffee table. Dylan shakily inhaled then exhaled, trying to calm his overwhelming emotions.

God, how he wanted to go home but he couldn't. He committed himself to this. He had to follow it through. He had to do this for himself and for Marco as well. The Italian was the older boy's primary motivation while he was here. Every goal he scored, every hit he took out on the ice, every thing, it was all for Marco. If it made the younger boy proud of him then it was worth it. Yes hockey was Dylan's childhood dream but Marco was his future. If Marco wanted him to come home for good Dylan would be on the next flight out of Switzerland but the hockey player knew Marco would never ask that of him. He had originally thought hockey was his life and for awhile it was. Whenever something bad happened to the brunette he could throw himself into his hockey but now he had Marco. He still loved hockey but he didn't need to use it as a crutch anymore. He didn't need to fall back onto it anymore if he was upset. He had Marco to fall back onto and he knew the younger boy would always catch him.

Dylan looked over to the clock that hung on the far wall. It was one-fifteen in the morning. The brunette figured by now it would be seven-fifteen over in Toronto. He quickly ran into the kitchen and picked up his cell phone. He was about to dial Marco's number then stopped. He felt a wave of nervousness wash over him.

_You almost never call or email me. _

What if Marco was mad at him? Duh, of course he was mad at him. He had practically ignored the Italian the whole time he was here. The older boy then leaned his head on the kitchen wall. _Stupid, stupid, stupid _he thought as he repeatedly banged his head against it, still holding his cell phone.

"Michalchuk, stop with your banging!" his neighbour yelled from the outside hallway. Dylan immediately stopped.

"Sorry Mr. Sven. My bad." The brunette apologized. He then heard the older man mutter something and slam his door.

The older boy then stared down at his cell phone. Its glowing numbers where taunting him. After a few moments of just staring absentmindedly at the phone the hockey player finally got the courage to punch in Marco's phone number. He anxiously held the phone up to his ear. His nerves increased as the phone rang. Dylan unknowingly started to chew on his bottom lips. Then he heard some muffled voices on the other side of the phone.

"Give me the phone Paige."

"No, I had it first."

"You ripped it out of my hands!"

"So."

"So? That is _so_ not cool."

"Fine, Marco, it's probably just some stupid telemarketer."

"Yeah because telemarketers know my cell phone number Paige…hello who is it?"

"Marco, it's me Dylan." The older boy replied. Dylan then heard crashing noise. What was that?

"Sorry. Dropped the phone. Um…so…"

"I got your letter Marco." The hockey player interrupted. Then he proceeded over to his couch once more. "And no I have not forgotten about you. You're all I think about too. I'm sorry I haven't called." The older brunette's walls broke down and he began to weep softly.

"Dylan…are you crying?" The younger asked, his voice becoming ridged, signaling that he was about to cry as well. "Baby, don't cry."

"What is that Dylan on the phone?" Paige exclaimed.

"Hold on a sec." then the hockey player heard rushed footsteps and a closing of a door. "Dyl are you still there?"

"Yeah." he replied, almost inaudible. "I miss you Marco."

"I miss you too Dylan. I love you." The younger boy responded. "Wait, isn't it like one in the morning over there?"

"Yeah." Dylan answered.

"Shouldn't you be sleeping?" The Italian said, concerned.

"I'd rather talk to you." The hockey player admitted. "I love you Marco. I just…I really want to go home."

"Dylan…"

"No Marco, I don't even know why I'm here in the first place. I mean, it's not like I'm going to go anywhere with this. There a million other guys here that are way better than me." The older boy stated.

"Dylan…you love hockey right?" Marco questioned.

"Yeah but I love you more." He replied.

"Dylan, one, you're most likely the best hockey player there and two you have something they don't…"

"You?' the older brunette cut in.

"Exactly. Remember Dylan. We are all so proud of you. Don't give up okay? Do it for me?" Marco said.

"Always." Dylan answered.

"Now, I'm gonna let you go because you need your sleep. I don't want you to get hurt out on the ice because you were to tired to focus." The Italian stated. "Will you call me later?"

"Yeah, I will." The hockey player agreed.

"Good and when you do you better me tell all about Switzerland. I want to know everything. Even what the public restrooms look like." The younger boy replied. "I love you Dylan."

"I love you too Marco. Bye." Dylan said.

"Bye." Then he hung up. He was extremely tired by now but there was one thing he had to do before he went to bed. He pushed himself off the couch and made his way into his bedroom. He walked over to his desk and pulled out some stationary paper that Paige had bought him before he left for Zurich and a pencil. He then threw himself onto his bed and laid the paper out in front of him. Dylan began to write.

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Review please. 


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